


Prologue: January 2009

by Amarylliss



Series: The Almost Lover Series [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-25 08:41:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/637089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amarylliss/pseuds/Amarylliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Severus Snape works for a private company developing potions. Harry Potter delivers his ingredients to him, fresh, daily.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prologue: January 2009

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The characters in the Harry Potter Universe do not belong to me. I am not making money from these works. 
> 
> A/N: This is unbeta'd, but I take great care to check for spelling errors. Everything is handwritten before being typed and then edited at least twice. But I am human. I make mistakes. If there are any errors, please let me know so that I may correct them.
> 
> This is the Prologue to my Almost Lover series. Enjoy!

"Tell me that I'm not crazy," he whispers in desperation.  
"Tell me that this isn't some one-sided thing, that it isn't all in my head."

A refusal rises within me, acidic and cutting and I know that it will end this madness here, stop this situation before it spins out of control. But I hold it back. It presses against the back of my teeth, desperate for escape and the taste is bitter, but I cannot allow the words release. His eyes are a little wild, and distantly I wonder if my face displays any of the turmoil I feel at his words. I fervently hope not. I have the impression that it would not take much to spook him at this point, to send him running from this room, tail between his legs and spirit crushed. I find, however, that for whatever reason I cannot bring myself to deny this... thing... that has been growing between us. The situation is not ideal in the least, but here it is nonetheless. 

My eyes drop to the ring on his finger as my thumb runs across a similar band on my own. I bring my eyes up to meet his and raise an eyebrow. It is the best answer I can give, yet it ends up feeling more like a question.

"Christ," he mutters. His eyes drop to my left hand and he notices that I am touching my own ring. I don't need a tangible reminder of why this cannot happen. But it helps. My heart is pounding in my chest, and it is a struggle to maintain composure. He doesn't even attempt to appear calm about the situation, and this is strange to me, because all of this time he has been so... steady. The fact that he seems to be so distraught is a testament to how this thing must be effecting him. I wonder if it has been effecting him for as long as it has been plaguing me. By his defeated posture, and the way his head falls back to gently hit the wall, I guess maybe it has. 

What a mess.

Suddenly, and without warning, a rage rises up in me so visceral that I fear I may strike him. Why did the fool have to bloody acknowledge this... ridiculousness... that has been building between us? I had been perfectly content in my ignorance of where he stood and how he felt. Blissful had been my assumption that this was entirely one-sided, that he couldn't possible feel the same way about an ugly, bitter, old man. But now, he has lain his cards upon the table, so to speak, and my illusions have been shattered. No matter what I want to believe, no matter what I need to believe, the reality of the situation is right here in this moment. It has become tangible now that it has been brought to light and I fear there will be no sweeping it under the rug and forgetting that it exists. 

I instantly hate him for this. 

"Nothing will come of it," I hiss at him viciously and he opens his eyes startled at the intensity of my response.

My reaction surprises me as well. I had been aiming for cool indifference. I missed my mark completely. How has this man destroyed me so completely in such a short amount of time?

"I know," is all he says as he straightens his posture and regains composure. "See you tomorrow."

He smiles at me and it is strained. Then he is gone and it is almost as if the whole ordeal never even happened. Almost. What had felt like hours, had in reality lasted only minutes, but those minutes had been enough to upend in my entire world.

Foolish man.

(Whether I am thinking of him or myself, I cannot say. Perhaps both?)

I shake the thoughts off and return to my work. I find that I am already looking forward to seeing him again tomorrow.

Bloody, buggering hell.


End file.
